Мор - ученик смерти

           ALLRIGHT,hesaidgrudgingly.BUTITSEEMSTOMEYOUHAVEEVERYTHINGYOUNEEDRIGHTHERE.THEDUTYISNOTONEROUS,ISIT?

           ’No,sir.’

           ANDYOUHAVEGOODFOODANDAWARMBEDANDRECREATIONANDPEOPLEYOUROWNAGE.

           ’Pardon,sir?’saidMort.

           MYDAUGHTER,saidDeath.YOUHAVEMETHER,IBELIEVE.

           ’Oh.Yes,sir.’

           SHEHASAVERYWARMPERSONALITYWHENYOUGETTOKNOWHER.

           ’Iamsureshehas,sir.’

           NEVERTHELESS,YOUWISH–Deathlaunchedthewordswithaspinofdistaste–ANAFTERNOONOFF?’Yes,sir.Ifyouplease,sir.’

           VERYWELL.SoBEIT.YouMAYHAVEUNTILSUNSET.

           Deathopenedhisgreatledger,pickedupapen,andbegantowrite.Occasionallyhe’dreachoutandflickthebeadsofanabacus.

           Afteraminutehelookedup.

           YOU’RESTILLHERE,hesaid.ANDINYOUROWNTIME,TOO,headdedsourly.